


sweet joys for each of them

by theladyscribe



Series: this and that of you [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-playoffs, Smut, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: There's a note on the sidebar where he drops his keys. It says,Dinner in the fridge if you're hungry, don't even think about sleeping in the guest room, I want you to wake me up. ;)





	sweet joys for each of them

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a timestamp for "this and that of you," though it's not necessary for you to read that first. This is not the Sid/Claude I intended to write after the Pens/Flyers series, but it's the one I finished.

There's a hush over Sewickley as Sidney drives home, the air still balmy despite the late hour. It smells like rain, like the calm just before a storm, a promise of fresh air and new beginnings on the horizon.

The porch light is on when he pulls into the driveway, but no other lights are visible through the windows. He's not surprised; he texted Claude not to wait up, unsure how late the postgame circus might go.

Sid tries to be quiet when he comes in, slipping off his shoes by the door. He turns off the porch light and turns on the light in the hallway. There's a note on the sidebar where he drops his keys. It says, _Dinner in the fridge if you're hungry, don't even think about sleeping in the guest room, I want you to wake me up. ;)_

Sid considers the promised dinner for a moment, but he ate at the rink after the post-game interviews. He leaves his bag in the hallway to deal with in the morning and heads up the stairs.

Claude is sound asleep, snoring none-too-gently when Sid opens the bedroom door and slips inside. He leaves the overhead light off, navigating to the en suite by the light from the hallway. He stumbles over a pair of shoes and can’t quite bite back a curse.

Claude shifts, turning over. “Sid?” he asks, voice creaky with sleep.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.”

"I told you to wake me up."

Claude sits up and turns on the lamp. They blink at each other in the sudden brightness. Claude is sleep-rumpled, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes puffy. He’s shirtless, probably naked under the blankets. He looks warm and inviting, and Sid forgets that he wanted to brush his teeth and maybe shower again before he crawls into bed.

"I know, but it's late. You were snoring."

"I don't snore," Claude insists.

One of these days Sid will record him and prove the lie. Right now, though, he just wants to tuck his face under Claude's chin and breathe for a while. It's been a long season -- a long three years -- and though it's been an incredible run, there's a relief that comes with knowing he has time at last to rest. Not only that -- he has someone to spend that time with.

“What are you staring at?” Claude asks, squinty but amused.

“You,” Sid answers, always a little too honest when it comes to Claude. It still seems a little unreal that he has this -- that he’s had this for years, now.

Claude harrumphs at him and glances away. Even three years in, he gets embarrassed by Sid's naked affection, flushing as red as his hair when Sid tells him how much he loves him. Sid once recited all of the things he loved about Claude just to see how deeply scarlet he'd turn, and Claude had gotten so angry with him he started to cry. The blush had reached all the way down to his belly button, and Claude kicked him out of bed and didn't speak to him for two days. The frankly spectacular blowjob he got once Claude forgave him was worth it, though Sid has never tried it again.

"Earth to Sid," Claude says in the here and now, tossing a pillow at him. "Are you coming to bed or are you just going to stand there all night?"

"Let me brush my teeth," Sid grumbles, picking up the pillow and tossing it back at Claude.

"You gonna shave your beard, too?" Claude asks, curious, not goading.

"Should I?" Sid asks in return, scratching a hand against it.

"Leave it. It'll keep 'til morning."

Sid nods and ducks into the bathroom. He goes through his nighttime routine on autopilot. When he comes out of the bathroom, feeling a little less foggy than when he went in, Claude has laid back down. He lifts the blankets to let Sid under the covers. He _is_ naked, as Sid suspected, his bare ass pale against the dark gray sheets.

"Am I overdressed?" Sid jokes, snapping the waistband of his boxers.

Claude gives him a once-over. "Maybe," he decides. "Unless you wanna come in your shorts."

Sid takes the hint and drops trou before climbing into bed. "Not sure I'm up for much," he admits. "I might fall asleep on you."

Claude snorts and shifts closer, wrapping an arm around Sid's waist and tipping him onto his back. "We'll see about that. You worked hard tonight. I've got this."

Claude leans down to kiss him, languid and tender. His hand travels over Sid's hip, feeling him out. He smooths his thumb over Sid's iliac crest and down to his groin. Sid meant it when he said he wasn't up for much, but his dick still twitches with interest when Claude's deft fingers reach its root. Claude pulls back from kissing him on the mouth and works his way down Sid's neck and chest, leaving biting kisses in his wake.

Sid is getting there now, his dick starting to leak precum, which Claude smears over the head. Sid moans when Claude pinches his foreskin a little before jerking him slowly.

"You like that?" Claude murmurs against his belly.

"Do it again," Sid says, the last word melting into another groan of pleasure. Claude does it a few times, and Sid bucks into his hand, the sensation almost too much. "Okay, okay, I need --"

"I got you," Claude assures him. He bites at Sid's hip and then gets his mouth on Sid's dick, sucking him off just the way he likes.

When Sid comes, it's the burn of muscles after a hard shift, warm and satisfying and utterly exhausting.

"C'mere," he mumbles, tugging at Claude's arm to pull him back up the bed.

He licks his own hand and reaches for Claude's cock. Claude reaches down, too, and oh, he's smearing Sid's jizz over his own cock. It's stupid-hot, and Sid makes a mental note to get him to do that more often before focusing back on getting Claude off. It doesn't take him long to come at all, going off like a rocket against Sid's hip with their hands tangled together around him.

“You okay?” Claude whispers after they clean up and bundle together under the blankets again.

Sid had asked him the same thing after their series against each other. Claude's answer then was the same as Sid's is now. “I will be." He pauses. "We were worn out. I think it was just a matter of time.”

"It's hard to stay on top of the world forever," Claude says, teasing without rancor.

"Yeah." Sid rubs a hand idly over Claude's bicep.

In the morning, he'll have to start on his end-of-season responsibilities: locker cleanout, packing the house, finalizing his summer schedule. He'll need to touch base with everyone on the team, especially the young guys, make sure everyone knows how proud he is of them, how great the last three years have been.

For now, he reaches for the chain on the bedside lamp. He turns out the light and curls in close to Claude, who is already starting to snore again. Sid smiles against his hair and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "though your sorrows not" by ee cummings:
> 
> "though your sorrows not  
> any tongue may name,  
> three i'll give you sweet  
> joys for each of them  
> But it must be your"  
> whispers that flower
> 
> murmurs eager this  
> "i will give you five  
> hopes for any fear,  
> but it Must be your"  
> perfectly alive  
> blossom of a bliss
> 
> "seven heavens for  
> just one dying,i'll  
> give you" silently  
> cries the(whom we call  
> rose a)mystery  
> "but it must be Your"


End file.
